Objects in Motion
by pencilitout
Summary: All motion is relative; all objects material. A picture traps a moment; a camera is a cage. And just like most cages, it has a key. Oneshot for Pick a Pic Challenge. ExB.
1. Chapter 1

**Pick A Pic Challenge  
Title: Objects in Motion  
Penname: pencilitout  
Banner: Entry # 19  
Rating/ Disclaimer: M for language. SM owns all recognizable characters. No copyright infringement intended.  
Summary: All motion is relative; all objects material. A picture traps a moment; a camera is a cage. And just like most cages, it has a key.**

_A photo album is very much like a zoo. Except, instead of cages there are pictures; instead of animals there are moments. A photo album is for viewing, for sparking memories, for perusing and strolling through the lanes of our lives. Inside one will find secrets, one will find joy, one will find sadness, one will find images, trapped forever, upon a piece of paper._

_Some like these zoos they create, these worlds they capture and lord over, fancying themselves as gods. Some take their pictures and savor the taste of their power; their ability to freeze time and place it in a nice, neat, custom tailored box that they dusted and placed on a shelf. Some love their boxes with an unwavering passion…_

_Some however, see their boxes opened. Some see their pets escape into the real world._

_A picture traps a moment; a camera is a cage._

_And just like most cages, it has a key._

She sat on the barstool, relaxed and tensed at the same time. The noise around her did not live up to her expectations. It was garbled and confused, not the clear, precise silence of her dark room. She shifted nervously, her jelloed muscles sighing under the weight of alcohol. Eight shots of straight up vodka could do that to a person.

She held her camera tightly, reminding herself what she was there for.

A blonde sauntered up to the bartender, leaning provocatively and batting her lashes. _Snap._

The bartender smiled, leaned away politely. _Snap._

A couple staggered, flushed with either the sinful liquid or their sinful desires, towards the open door. _Snap._

The crowd cheered, hands waved as a popular song wafted into the sweaty air. _Snap._

She breathed steadily, ignoring the curious looks of neighboring barflies. Taking random pictures of people drew attention to her, especially when the camera made annoyingly loud clicks as it gobbled up the scenes before it. She knocked back another shot, expecting someone to come up and demand that she erase their photo.

People did not especially like being captured by strangers.

Cameras were cages, they held prisoner whatever image they were directed to. She found it fascinating. Others found it to be an invasion of privacy. Therefore the alcohol.

She stood from her stool, deciding to venture onto the floor and capture the pulse of the club. Writhing bodies and pent up lust. Lushes and succubi, pretenders flashing fake ID's insisting they were what the plastic card said. Smooth white skin dripping with salt and strong hands traveling over secretive curves. She wanted it; all of it. So she stumbled into the knot of humanity and clicked away.

Sadly, the perfect picture had its price. There was much jostling and shoving, much tugging and touching that threw her off balance. She futilely pushed the button, in her drunken haze being nearly more of a hinder than the overwhelming crowd. With one last push and shove, with one last forefinger against the lock, she spun out of the mass and into the cold outside. People waved down taxis. _Snap. _She did the same.

The lights of the city fascinated her. She rolled down the window, her skin screamed against the brisk air. The lights flashed by. _Snap. _The lights stilled. _Snap._

She paid the driver and approached her door, stowing her camera in its ready bag. Keys jingled in her hand, her door opened then locked behind her. The camera traveled to the counter and she traveled to her bed. She fell asleep with her dress still on.

~E B~

I rolled out of bed, my head pounding like there was a party going on inside. I crawled half heartedly to the kitchen for some medication and then the shower.

Nine shots of vodka. What the _hell_ had I been thinking?

Obviously my conscience wasn't at its best last night. There were no doubts in my mind when I opted for the liquid courage. No "Bella, five is enough" or "Maybe we should just suck it up and stick with two." Nope, I decided to drink myself under the table and into oblivion. And now I had to deal with the battle zone that was my aching head.

I felt mildly better after the shower and Advil. My headache had become just a mild pulsing by the time noon rolled around. So I grabbed my camera and my car keys. It was Saturday, which meant it was time to go visit the Studio.

I fought my way through traffic and mom cars until I nabbed a parking space in the lot. Right next to Alice's distinctly pink Beetle, of all places.

"BELLA!" the munchkin pounced the moment I hesitantly descended from my noble steed. I groaned in pain.

"Hangover, Al. Turn the notch down a few levels, if possible, please." She nodded happily and stepped away. We walked into the building amicably talking about our week.

"I met the cutest guy." Her eyes went starry. I deliberated on stealing the moment with a snap of my camera.

"His name's Jasper," she giggled, "and he asked me to go out tonight for dinner." She smiled like he'd already got down on one knee.

"When's the wedding?" I joked.

"June 27th next year." She giggled again.

"Are you serious?" She nodded.

"Deadly." I shrugged. That was so Alice.

We entered the Studio and went out separate ways. Her to the gallery and me to the dark room. She was here to paint and I was here to discover. I eyed my camera dubiously before pushing open the door.

To my delight, the room was empty. I got to work, smiling at my creations. Good old black and white; the classical approach. The blonde and the bartender. The happy couple and the rowdy crowd. So clear, so precise…until it wasn't.

I got to the imperfect batch, the most important batch. It was blurry and confusing and absolutely beyond my wildest dreams. The confusion and the obscurity captured just perfectly how the crowd felt. I was pretty pleased with myself; even drunk I was damn good.

I watched sadly as the pile got smaller, my little presents were being unwrapped. I looked to the last one and waited with trepidation. The pictures so far had been great, but maybe this one would be greater. Maybe this one would take my breath away.

My heart beat. I had my finger on the pulse of a memory as it revealed itself to me.

"Holy shit." My whispered exclamation seemed to echo around the tiny room. My eyes were wide, my cheeks flushed, my body cackling with electricity.

Oh god. The picture before me…

It wasn't the perfectness of the cage that astounded me. It was what I found within.

The corners were dark, the gray figures hazy against the dark and the motion. And nearly centered was a perfectly clear point, a face. The most beautiful face of the most gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes on.

He was looking at something to the right, his eyes trained downward somewhat. His mouth was closed; his lips were utterly kissable and looked soft to the touch. His cheek bones were defined; his brows were thick and dark. One cheek was hallowed, his nose was somewhat imperfect which only added to his masculinity. And his jaw, oh god his jaw. I wanted to lick and bite and suck…

I was breathing embarrassingly loud and my body felt like it was about to combust. All from one picture. One _picture_ made me feel like this. Oh but he was a work of art, a piece of perfection. And I had him in my box, I had him. He was mine, in this picture. I _owned_ this image, this part of him.

It made me shiver, a delirious pleasure rippling down my spine.

I stared, gawked at him. I wanted to brush that hair away from his forehead. I wanted to change that unfocused expression into something fiery and passionate. I wanted those eyes on _me_. I needed those lips on _mine_.

I had him in the cage. And I was desperate to find the key to his release.

I felt ready to pass out, my vision becoming dizzy. I packed up my pictures, reverently stroking his, before escaping out into the real world. I went to Alice, chattered to calm my heart and my body. I needed her to balance me out when my reality had been shaken so roughly. And when I left, wishing her luck with her Jasper, I sped home with only the thought of _him_ on my mind.

~E B~

She was back again. He gazed curiously at the girl with the camera. She'd been coming for about a week now, and he'd taken notice. Oh he'd _definitely_ taken notice. It had started with a mere glimpse and had turned into a full blown obsession.

He'd been leaning against the wall of his brother's club, watching the pair making out to his left dispassionately. Jasper told him he needed to go out and _do_ stuff. Get away from his job and his house. So he shook himself and went to Jasper's club. Maybe he'd find a girl. Or maybe he'd find himself a drink.

Oddly enough, he found both.

He'd been bored and ready to leave with his brandy when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a white flash. He turned quickly and saw a camera aimed in his direction. And behind it was the most gorgeous body he'd ever seen.

The girl was stumbling through the crowd, holding the camera about chest level and randomly taking pictures. She wasn't even looking to see what she found. But he was.

He only had time to visually explore her endless creamy legs and the rounded hips that led to the delicately small waist before she was swallowed up by the grinding bodies again. He fell back against the wall, only just realizing that he'd been straining forward, muscles tensed as he tried to catch a glimpse. He waited, eyes scanning the crowd eagerly before he saw _those_ legs over by the door. He finished his peeping; beautifully rounded breasts, slim shoulders, elegant neck, and lovely mahogany hair clipped up on the top of her head before she turned.

And then he was floored.

If he thought her body was beautiful, than her face was that of a goddess'. Pouty bite-me lips, lashes he could see from where he was, twenty feet away, and warm red cheeks. She was pale, and drunk, and had the kindest brown eyes he'd ever seen. She was ethereal. And in a blink, she had crashed out the door.

He felt shaky and grabbed a seat, trying to hold onto the memory of the perfect creature that had just mesmerized him so. He went to get a drink and then a car. He knew he would be back, if only to see her again.

And the fact that he was so desperate to leave his carefully molded routine seemed surreal to him.

So he did, indeed, return. And to his delight, so did she. He watched her from afar, always with her camera, always the alluring seductress. She starred in his dreams, his fantasies, his reality. She was a center point, an object that all the motion in his life seemed to revolve around. She terrified him, she enthralled him.

And after a week of observing her, of seeing those brown eyes sadden on her way out the door, he decided it was time to man up and talk to her. He was either going to destroy these intense feelings or make her _his_.

It was time to test the waters.

~E B~

Sweat trickled down my forehead as I approached her from behind. God she was gorgeous. Just one look from her pretty little eyes, one smile from that pretty little mouth and I would probably stutter like an ignorant fool.

I steeled my resolve, deciding that it was time to stop being chickenshit, and I was just about to go up and tap her on the shoulder, buy her a drink, before some other fucker beat me to it. I watched with rage as his slimy hands rubbed her shoulder, as he twirled a piece of her hair around her finger and leaned in suggestively.

_Edward, calm down. She doesn't belong to you._

I smirked when she pushed him away. Then watched murderously as he ignored her and touched her again. She was reluctant, she didn't want anything to do with him. Was he blind?

I walked up and wrapped my arms around her waist, resting my chin on her shoulder as I glared at the piece of crap. He was short, slight, and sleazy. And _Jesus_ she smelled good.

"Keep your hands off my girlfriend." I am so stupid. So very stupid.

He put his dirty hands up and backed away apologizing. When he was out of sight I let her go reluctantly and was met with the gaze I'd been so fascinated with this past week.

"What the-" she stopped when she looked at me. Her eyes were wide, her mouth popped open and made me think some rather inappropriate things. I cleared my throat. She blushed.

_So beautiful._

"Umm, sorry. And uh- thanks…for, you know, saving me from that creep. Uh, yeah. Umm…" she cringed and I chuckled. Her mumbling was absolutely adorable. I flashed her my signature smile. She blushed harder.

_Score._

"You're welcome. I just saw a beautiful lady in distress and figured I should step in, I'm Edward by the way." She held out her hand.

"Bella." _Beautiful_. I took her hand and kissed the back of it, looking up into those bottomless chocolate eyes. She blushed again and stammered.

"Are you always this articulate?" She smiled at me, a glorious earth-shaking smile. And I knew that I was done for. I offered to buy her a drink and she nodded, her eyes shining at me. We drank, we talked, we exchanged numbers. Time flew by and I found myself happier than I'd been in just about forever.

It got late, I escorted her to a taxi. We made plans to see each other again and she was as reluctant as I to leave. I watched the car carrying her away from me despondently, but then smiled at the thought of seeing her again.

I floated home with the sound of her name on my lips.

_Bella._

~E B~

Edward.

Oh he was perfect. And we were going out today. I could barely get to sleep after we met, after my dreams came true. I'd been going to that club for a week, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beautiful stranger. And I finally did. I pulled out his picture, except this time the face had a name.

He was kind, and smart, and funny, and his arms around me felt really good.

When I felt a deep voice in my ear telling the sleaze-ball to back off I felt equal parts ecstasy and anger. Who was this stranger? Why did it make me want to giggle when he called me his girlfriend? I turned, ready to mouth off to them before I saw his face.

It was _him_. Edward.

I stuttered like a fool and he kissed my hand. He bought me a drink. I reveled in his attention. Time went so fast but every time I looked in his gorgeous green eyes everything stopped. His hair was bronze, his eyes a brilliant leafy color with gold flecks. Black and white pictures did him no justice.

We flirted, we joked, we talked endlessly. We said goodbye. We made plans.

I was going to see him today.

I called Alice and we gushed about boys. She mentioned her Jasper had a brother named Edward. Could it be coincidence? I promised I'd ask. She gave me tips on how to dress. I paced nervously, darting to the clock and praying for six to roll around.

I pulled on a dress, heels, some makeup, and did my hair. I opened the door to an Edward bearing yellow tulips. I smiled, I blushed, I hugged him a little longer than necessary. We went out, we ate, he made me fall for him even harder.

He touched me occasionally, his smooth skin sending little tingles of electricity through me. He drove us to the beach and we walked along the shore. The moon brightened the night and smiled down at us as we sat upon the sand. He held my hand gently as our lips gravitated towards each other. He kissed me and it was the best moment of my life. I wished I had my camera.

We made out like teenagers and he drove me home, promising we would go out again tomorrow. He worked next to a café I adored. We were going to meet up there for lunch. I was elated.

He kissed me on my doorstep. He said he _did_ have a brother Jasper.

"Call me?"

"Definitely."

He left. He called. I screamed into my pillow like a giddy schoolgirl.

~E B~

Edward and Bella met up again, and again…and again. They fell in love; they made love. Bella showed Edward the picture. He laughed at the coincidence, told her of his stalkerish behavior when he saw her. They laughed together, they stayed together.

Anyone who saw them said they were made for each other; and ultimately, they were. Bella continued taking photos, Edward continued to cherish her warmth in her life.

She had the key to his cage, to his heart. And he had hers. That moment had been captured and let out of the box she'd put it in.

And it had been the best thing that ever happened to either of them.

_Some enjoy their boxes, relish the fact that they can trap time. Some let the material memories gather dust, some polish them and live through an image on paper. Some let their memories escape, some clip them to a wall and occasionally reminisce._

_And some lift the lid, turn the key, and discover that what's inside is best let out._

_All motion is relative; all objects material. _

_When ice thaws it turns to water and cascades. When lives collide they intertwine._

_And when the immaterial escapes into the real world the black and white bleeds color._

_

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